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This is a question Complaining

I like writing letters of complaint to companies containing the words "premier league muppetry", if only to give the poor office workers a good laugh on an otherwise dull day. Have you ever complained? Did it work?

(, Thu 2 Sep 2010, 13:16)
Pages: Latest, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, ... 1

This question is now closed.

Dear Avery
Your sheets of printer labels are all marked "Guaranteed Jam Free", but you provide absolutely no details whatsoever on how to redeem this offer.
(, Wed 8 Sep 2010, 10:59, 4 replies)
Gonna feel the stabby hate in a poor attempt at irony.
Australians have a what-fresh-hell-is-this relationship with the Whingeing Poms. We even have a magazine by an expat dedicated to the fine art of coming over here and whingeing about everything we have and do:


Complaint? Oh, there's just not enough of you coming over here whingeing about everything we have and do.
(, Wed 8 Sep 2010, 10:16, 29 replies)
Many of the QOTW answers are Fail.
Many contain MASSIVE DRUGS/supermodels/Honda Accords.

Many are not true.

Many are not funny.

Many are pointless.

Many contain online hardmanship.

I am better than everyone, but prefer to imply it by putting others down, instead of declaring and displaying my greatness.

Oh god I am absolutely terrified of everything oh god oh god help me help me help me.

Do I win?

First one to say no wins a prize*.

*Prize may differ from that offered. Terms and conditions apply.
(, Wed 8 Sep 2010, 10:12, 42 replies)
A complaint my colleague had to follow up recently...
Hello Bob*,
Thank you for agreeing to help us investigate this customer complaint.
We sent out a letter on 2nd June to a ‘Mr Aidsgayboy Smith’
The customer’s real name is Mr Anthony Smith - Please can you look into the database to see whether we have this customers details and what information we hold on him?

Hi Jill,
I’ve checked on the database and we don’t have those customer details. But I also checked the incoming files and found 2 records for this customer, but the forename was “Aidsinfected” and not “Aidsgayboy” so it looks a though it’s probably come from a separate source to the one you mention.
Seems like someone’s got it in for him.
Let me know if you need me to do anything else.

Top marks to Bob for professional demeanour in the face of hilarity. Ha!

* Incriminating details and names removed/changed...
(, Wed 8 Sep 2010, 9:19, Reply)
At a call centre
People would ask to speak to my supervisor.

I'd see which team mate was off a call, let them know what was up, transfer it through, and they'd promise to give me and everyone involved a right spanking.
(, Wed 8 Sep 2010, 3:36, 4 replies)
An oldie but a goodie
(, Wed 8 Sep 2010, 2:56, 2 replies)
Dear Christopher Lambert
You get on my nerves you trollop. 'Highlander' gives me weird feelings and you were shit in 'Mortal Kombat'.

Go away.
(, Wed 8 Sep 2010, 2:22, 4 replies)
A stranger was mean to me
on the internet and it hurt me where my heart used to be. I can't find the complaints department, can anybody help?
(, Wed 8 Sep 2010, 1:44, 2 replies)
Can i direct your attention to this.....

(apologies to Mustafa Bindun if he got this in before me!)
(, Wed 8 Sep 2010, 0:51, 1 reply)
It's true, sometimes you don't have to complain
A week or so before Xmas '09, a local electronics store had a deal on Wiis where you got a console, Sports Resort and Fit (with board) for a decent price, so I called up and asked if they could put one aside for me to pick up the next day (they had two left in stock). When I went in to buy it, they told me that they actually didn't have any Fit in store, but they had some coming in soon.

Sure enough, a couple of days later more stock showed up, and when I went in to buy Fit they sneakily replaced it with Fit Plus. I didn't even notice until I got home because they made no reference to it, but I guess that was their way of apologising for the mix-up, even though I hadn't complained about anything.

Barely play it though.
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 23:52, 2 replies)
Yin thread
there's some serious Karma coming at b3ta after you lot have revealed what a bunch of moaning turds you can be. I propose a yin thread to counter out your carping.

Starting with this; to the lovely person I spoke to this evening 6 minutes before your call centre closed, thank you very much for putting up with me, being funny and professional and letting me off my (deserved) late fee. Just so you know, I asked to speak to your supervisor so I could tell her you were a pleasure to talk to and a credit to your company.

Feel free to include your own stories of being curteous, reticent and accommodating in the course of your interactions with other people, who no doubt have their own complicated lives to deal with. Or, why not just use this as an opportunity to go and have a nice cup of tea and think about going to the park.

(or just bumsex me, I don't fucking care you bunch of cunts)
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 22:44, 13 replies)
To the Mr Angries and Pre-Menstrual Harpies
When you have a complaint rather than going in all guns blazing why not try being nice first. Not all businesses are staffed by couldn't care less service droids and an alternating series of clueless muppets. Most small businesses take customer service very seriously so why not give them a chance first before you start getting rude?

Mrs Angry - you might get your replacement or refund that you wanted and was probably your right, but nothing more, and in the end everyone just thinks you are a cunt. On the other hand Mrs Nice who had the same problem would have got what was her right and maybe a freebie as a "good will gesture" for the "inconvenience" and in the end everyone's happy.

Businesses will do what they can to keep good customers onside. No business is going to be too upset that a ranting twunt is going to take their custom elsewhere.
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 22:33, 2 replies)

Dorothy Jane
Fell out of a plane
Though the reasons are still far from clear.
She was heard to complain
And complain and complain
Though of what I have just no idea.

Dorothy Jane
Would complain and complain
About everything under the sun.
She'd complain and complain
And complain and complain
She thought that complaining was fun.

"My seatbelt's too tight
I don't want my light!
I hate mayonnaise on my eggs!
I don't like this flight!
The sun is too bright!
And why have I only two legs?"

Dorothy Jane
I'm afraid, was a pain
In the neck, in the side, in the head.
She'd complain and complain
And complain and complain
Until most people wished she were dead.

"I'm not feeling well!
What is that smell?
Why are we flying so low?
Why've you opened the door?
What's this hole in the floor?
The emergency exit? Uh-oh!"

Dorothy Jane
Fell out of a plane
Though the reasons are still far from clear
She was wont to complain
And complain and complain
Though she recently hasn't, I hear.

(With respect to Terry Jones, who apparently thought that murdering the irritating, along with auto-cannibalism, living in shit, naked cowboys and being dissolved by your own bodily fluids were suitable subjects for a children's poetry book, and was correct.)
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 22:29, 3 replies)
An associate of mine.......
Loves to act like a stuck up prick. He positively enjoys it. He'll smoke inside just to start, figuring it's more fun and any fine he'll get is worth the price for the entertainment value.

Just last month he took a Cognac I brought him back to the bar as the glass hadn't been warmed up for him. Not bad for a 24 year old.
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 22:24, 4 replies)
Complaint about coupon complainers
If the online coupon code that a "friend" gave you on an internet site isn't valid when you try and use it then rather than shouting abuse at the company you tried to use it with why not go back to your "friend" and see if they haven't got their facts muddled up?

I have a hot tip for all you irish coupon hounds that have being bothering me - Anglo Irish Bank are giving away free samples of 10 Euro notes, just go up to the counter and shout the code "FECKINSTICKUP".
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 21:11, 2 replies)
Jelly Tots
When we were but wee little nippers (ok we were 17) my pals and I thought it most hilarious to post emails to various companies complaining about how crap their sweets were. I think the one posted below is my favoutite though. (Or maybe it's the only one I could find..)


Many Greetings to you Chewie the Chewitsaurus and any dragons you know. I have many questions on many categories of subjects. Firstly:
My eyes lit up when they saw your sour chewit packet. My good friend had to catch me when I fell with excitement! I immediately purchased the item, of course. I sat down eagerly at my comfortable reclining ornamanated stool and carefully placed the first sour chewit in my salivating cephalisationary node (you know, the mouth) and was shocked BUT not by the sourness more the LACK of it. I think you accidently forgot to place the special sour potion you use into my packet. Could you send me a bottle of sour potion to add to the defficient chewits? Please, thankyou.

The question The second:

To get over the lack of potion and emotional trauma I suffered consequently I bought a packet of Green Cola Chewits. Yum they were sensaaaaaaaaaaationalaylay good. BUT this time the packaging caused my brain to oscillate with disappointment, for the "amazing" facts failed to be so. Is there any reason why you can justify not making your "amazing" facts amazing?

I hope you are well and eat a lot of chewits. Do you enjoy your job? I'd like it if you don't. Thanks,
Vera and Laura


(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 21:00, 1 reply)
a long time ago in a Sheffield far far away ...
I ordered an Arcam alpha-5 amplifier for my stereo system, because there wasn't one in stock in the shop. But it conspicuously failed to arrive for a week or so after the due date, so I ...

... didn't get the chance to explode with rage, because the guy said: "Sorry about that, here have this alpha-6 instead".

The evil swine didn't even give me a chance to complain.

Nb: although I wasn't in any desperate hurry, and would have probably waited another week quite happily.
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 20:48, 2 replies)
A leaking coffin...
The horror.

This poster described the scene,

There's much more to the story - at least one of the bearers got the gunge on his face and had to be dragged away sharpish to wash it off at the church, and the coffin leaked continuously, so that on the catafalque at the crematorium a stinky, thin, blood-coloured gunge was pouring out. And so on...

It fell to Yours Truly and A.N. Other to complain about it.

We went along expecting an apology from the undertaker for so shamefully neglecting our loved one's earthly remains. Instead, he more or less shrugged and said 'shit happens.' Not in so many words, but no apology. He was basically pleased that he'd got the funeral over with, and knew that we couldn't do a damn thing about it.

So as I've had no satisfaction from the undertaker, there is no need for any discretion on my part.

Rob Smith, formerly of Oxley's in Crewe and latterly of Crewe Funeral Services, and now, I hear, on the dole, you are a SHITE undertaker. I wouldn't send you to bury a goldfish.
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 20:32, 6 replies)
A long time ago, my Grandparents drove the Monte Carlo rally
this would have been just after the second War, before kids bogged them down.
My grandmother came flying around a mountain bend, Gramps navigating, to be confronted by a Bentley across the road. And by across the road it meant bumper up against the cliff face, boot hanging precariously over the edge of the mountain.
"I say old bean," says an appropriately plummy character as my grandparents pull up, "don't suppose you could help us out a bit, could you?"

With a gentlemanly smile, my grandfather rolled up his sleeves, leant in, undid the handbrake and with one shoulder shove, sent the Bentley tipping over the cliff edge. Before the gobsmacked driver could give vent to his complaint, he was told "There's a race on, and you're holding me up."
He was bedgrudgingly given a lift to the bottom of the mountain ("despite the weight he added", I'm told). Upon stepping out, he thanked my grandparents curtly and added as a parting comment:

"If you ever come to Austria I will have you shot. Good day."
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 20:08, 5 replies)
I have complained to Poundland *shakes fist*
Dear Sir / Madam

I have been a lifelong shopper at Poundland over many weeks and have never felt the need to complain, grumble or discuss any of the numerous purchases I have made at your stores ‐ particularly the fabulous new retail store on Clayton Street, Newcastle ‐ until now.

Before I launch into the minutiae of my complaint, let me paint a picture. I am walking down the aisle in but fourteen weeks, and I have a honeymoon shortly after. As you can doubtless imagine, I am a bundle of nerves, but, being from Newcastle, I am also extremely careful with money (which makes stores like yours a godsend!). Thus, in order to save up for the wedding, I have been employing lots of cost‐cutting measures:

-buying a cheaper cat food for my cats Hindenburg and Yorkie;
- turning the heating down overnight;
- refusing to pay my council tax;
- only having two baths a day rather than the extravagant three showers I previously had; and
- saving all my spare change.

Now, the last point is perhaps the most critical so I’ll repeat it ‐ I am saving up change. Now, I have tried all manner of receptacles for my loose change, from the moderately successful (twenty pence coins can slot neatly into Smarties tubes) to the downright folly (the ‘Aztec Trail’ fruitie in my local) and nothing has really cut the mustard. I wanted something with a satisfying metal clank AND the inability to access the saved coinage unless the container was destroyed. Alas, it was never to be.

Until Friday 20 August, that is. I happened to be stealing some pens from a colleagues desk (Sharpies, since you ask) when I noticed Michael Jackson staring at me from behind some loose‐leaf files. Thankfully, he hadn’t risen from the dead, but rather she had found THE PERFECT SOLUTION to my coin‐worries ‐ a metal tin with a slot that can only be opened (and thus destroyed) with a tin‐opener! I had to sit down (partly because my pockets were laden with stationery) and catch a breath. This was it! I had to have it for myself but no ‐ the cleaner had started pushing her Henry around and although she is deaf, I could not risk pocketing the tin. BECURSES.

After a sweaty weekend (heat and anxiety), I rushed into work on Monday to demand of my colleague the location and price of the tin. She excitedly answered my questions with one word ‘Poundland’, spraying me with pastry crumbs whilst doing so. She knew I was clever enough to work out the price from the location, and so, that very afternoon, I almost dashed into the store to find such a tin.
However, this is where the problem starts. I searched high and low between the toolsets, menthol filters, Hannah Montana lunchboxes and bags of sweets, but I could not find a tin to meet my needs. See, they were all a little…festive. Now see, in all honesty, I’m as gay as a flowering meadow and have no problem admitting who I am, but at the same time, I don’t like it to be ‘my thing’. I don’t want people referring to me as the ‘fat gay guy in the admin team’ or ‘the mary upstairs who knows how to use the franking machine’ because I feel I am so much more than that.

But, no, your store was unable to cater to my needs, and I was forced to buy a moneytin which is perhaps the most camp, girly endeavour you can imagine. My need to save money won out over my need not to be so…’flaming’, so it was back to work with said tin where, as you can imagine, I was jeered and jostled and I am too ashamed to actually use the tin, instead resorting to hiding it in my drawer and surreptitiously sliding coins in there. This is no way to live.

I have included three photos of this offensive tin for your appraisal, one of which shows the barcode so you know that I’m not making this woeful tale up. I am sure you can agree with me when I say that it’s an especially fruity moneytin for a man to have. The reason I am writing to you then is to simply encourage you to stock more ‘masculine’ choices. If there was a tin with a picture of say, The Stig on the side, slightly warped and off‐colour, I would have been left a much happier man.

I look forward to your reply,

Many thanks


I hope I'm allowed to post this, but here is a picture of the picture of the tin in question. Good lord!

(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 19:23, 8 replies)
The story below reminded me of this escapade with them.

A few years back before i had broadband, i had a knock on the door and a smily bloke in a suit stood there and told me he was from Talk Talk and wanted to offer me a deal so great i would be chasing him down the street for it.

The deal consisted of telephone and broadband for something like 15 quid a month. I thought it was an excellend deal as other providers were charging £20+ a month JUST for BB at that time,and not being a big lover of our only other provider, BT, i read through all the paperwork he had given me and decided to sign up. He tells me that i would be getting a pack in the post in the next week or two with all my info about phone and how they would set up the broadband etc.

Two weeks go by. No pack. I wait. Another week. Nothing. So i call them up and ask whats happening and get told that the pack was sent but they would send another just in case. Whilst there i asked about my broadband and when i would be getting it all sorted out but shock horror, they knew nothing about the broadband aspect of my order. No problem, mistakes happen. Can i have it added now please? But there was a problem. Apparently i live in an area where we still use copper wires in our local exchange so basically i cannot have it.

I was not happy about this as i had been promised broadband and was getting fed up with dial-up porn and long waits for music torrents to download. I wrote a letter to them explaining how i was sold broadband and so i should get broadband damnit! (I suppose i expected them to come and dig up the road and install it, i was pissed off!). I got a letter back from their CS team explaining that they were sorry but some field sales staff had "mistakenly sold broadband in my area and were being re-trained". That to me is mis-selling a product which i was now paying for in my monthly 15 quid. I pointed this out to them in the last letter i sent telling them after cancelling the service and going back to BT. But as Sky now offered broadband i had taken this and it had cost me 40 quid to setup. I itemised my cost and deducted this from the bill and ended up giving them about 20 quid in the end. Thought i might as well see if it could get away with it. They sent a letter from their debtors department saying it was not acceptable and would take further action if did not pay the outstanding balance of £40 so i sent a copy of their letter which basically admitted mis-selling and that i would be forced to take it to OFCOM.

I never heard from them again...

To this day i have never used Talk Talk or the Carphonewhorehouse again. But i still regularly enjoy using Sky broadband which i have to say, is really flipping good.
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 18:24, 3 replies)
When BroadBand goes wrong.
A year or so ago I swapped over our phone line and broadband into one package with talktalk. Aside from some initial setup issues and very very long call on hold waiting times the service was good, well it was good for a number of reasons. It cut our phone bill + broadband bill down by more than half. For this I was more than happy to tolerate a few phone calls and dropped internet.

About 14 months into our contract we started having sales calls asking us to renew our contract. Repeatedly they would call, but due to all the new competition I didn't wasn't to sign away another 12 months, especially when they admitted we were currently on a 30 day rolling contract.

This happened a few times more. Me becoming more and more blunt with the sales monkeys each time but sure enough every few weeks there would be the familiar patter of a sales agent trying their best.

Then silence, figuring they had got the message one morning in the post arrived a box marked talktalk. Odd this, what can this mean?

Opening the box reveals a shiny new router, set up discs etc etc. With a welcome letter thanking us for signing up for 12 months service. Arrrrggggggggggggggggg... lying cheating barstewards!

Brilliant, how am I going to explain this to customer bumders in Bangalore. First call, no success, ask politly to be passed on to some one higher up, no help, so next level, finally call routed back to the UK - Start to get somewhere... but not far so I request a call back. Big mistake my amateurish complaining mode is fully on, as we all know no one will ever call you back, girls, your mum or even my mum.

Days of going through the same routine pass, right.. new tactic, as each time there was no log of the issue and no one could grasp the fact we had been fraudulently signed to a contract. So I call the cancellations department, its amazing how good these guys are, and what they can suddenly do. So long and short of it is get the original rolling 30 days back, get all sorts thrown in for free with a reduction in there too. Get to keep the shiny new modem, and all is sweet.

Except it wasn't, I don't often check the online billing system, as besides a few calls to mobiles all the calls are free, so it sticks to the 25 to 30 quid a month direct debit. Only three months later there was a debit of 90 odd pounds, odd thinks I. Joy, back on the phone I find out why, they have changed our package, and although better doesn't include the international section nor daytime calls, the old package wasn't available as SIR you changed it 3 months ago!

Twunting heck, so I go through the whole rigmarole again to get refunds, add ons for free to include the anytime free calls etc etc...

Apology, I wish, it was like they were doing me a favour, I wish I had thought about writing to them regarding the legal nature of signing binding contracts and changing service status without the owners/users consent.

Still, it's generally quite cheap.
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 17:40, 4 replies)
Short measure
I do appreciate that a brim measure pint glass can`t be filled to more than about 2mm from the top unless it is scrumpy or your dishwasher has left detergent on the glasses. Apart from the gunness ruling there is no legal excuse for anything lazily excessive on the head front though

My old boss was a social club licensee and nailed people to the wall for heads of foam verbally, whichever side of the bar he was on. He never did get me one, but at a trade show he got a credit card sized "calculator" with graduations on one side and price per pint on the columns.
On getting anything other than a proper attempt at a top up he would with a flourish hold this up against a pint glass, and very loudly say how much they were trousering. Strangely enough they always became suddenly eager to top it up.
They don`t want the punters to think about it in those terms.

edit: Someone is bound to get on the head vs no head arguments. I`m not north Vs south, I will just say HEAD=LINED GLASSES!

Edit I also just posted on last edit something out of date. sorry.
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 17:32, 4 replies)
Short measure
I had a mate who was one of those types who give real ale/CAMRA a bad name. Indeed, the Real Ale Twats in Viz could well have been based in this guy. One of his obsessions (shared with some of his fellow ale-quaffers) was short measure in pubs.

Now please don't get me wrong. I enjoy a drop of real ale when I'm in England and I don't like being ripped off any more than the next bloke. On the other hand, I see little point in complaining that the head on my beer is 0.009 mm too thick, especially as I'll probably spill more than that on the way to my seat. In my experience, a barman/barmaid will often top up a pint that settles short without needing to be asked, and if they don't, a polite request usually does the trick. Perhaps the latter isn't a good idea in pubs that rate five fists and a knuckleduster (for exceptional brutality) in the Good Fight Guide, but who wants to go to places like that anyway?

Back to my mate. He'd pursue the short measure issue with a zeal which is not healthy or normal in a human being. As the hapless barman/maid poured his pint, I could feel the intensity of his gaze on the glass, watching the beer level as it rose. I became convinced he actually wanted the pint to be short, so he could deliver his killer lines:

"Could you put a whisky in there?"

and, on being told, "Yes, certainly" he'd go for the jugular:

"Well top it up with beer then!"

Boom! Boom! Cue guts all over the walls as sides split. Well, I admit it was quite funny the first time, but after I'd heard it for the 100th I would feel the urge to kill him, myself, and out of kindness any poor sod who happened to be within earshot.

I haven't seen him for a long time. For some reason, that doesn't bother me too much.
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 16:17, 3 replies)
freeze, dried meat!
Things went down in a fat, lazy south german town full of bored and arrogant posh wankers. I once helplessly witnessed, and got told more later, how my then girlfriend was heavily mistreated by several police officers. Clumsy and cruel and enjoying it. Taking her soul apart in a way that left her shell shocked for long after. I have had contacts with the law of about five countries, some were reasonable, many quite nasty role models, (statistically, France is the worst place in Europe to sleep rough, smoke roll-ups, or indeed sit.) but what went on there takes the bloody, stamped on, desperate biscuit. Bear with me, there is kind of a comical ending in sight. Mostly cathartic writing though, second attempt after THE actual COMPLAINT LETTER. Otherwise, feel free to cut at the lines to skip to pun tl:dr style.

We drunkenly took photos in the snow under a chuch wall, her frolicking and rolling and snow-angeling in the stuff, playful as a puppy. Which was adjacent to the cops' parking lot. Cop steps outside, demands in a rude manner (think nazi movies) what we were up to climbing in (with him being behind the fence, at least 10 meters away) and show your ID. Minor mockery, sensibly thoughrather contextual minor cuss words. Then , while he still more or less just stood there looking pissed off we bumbled off into a side street. Joking about how AC ultimately just AB and such. Realizing too late, a minute or so later, that the man has followed us, now running full force at us. Why i think it was all my fault: the incident was far too marginal to eben bother running. Surely he saw the situation as daily minor annoyance. Surely the fuzz had real problems to care about. Surely they had some donuts and hot cocoa in there, watching Winnie the Pooh and playing chase with their die-cast cars. Did they fuck.

There was little to say or bound to happen against us to start with, but she went postal once the dude knocked me away and pinned her to the ground. As in tackled. While we had stopped anyways, shock second, he was screaming too, and that from walking slowly. So yeah, girl finds herself with a man climbing on top of her. Bit the dude and tried to squirm and kick free, animal mind in control. Still as much danger as a 1m50something, slender girl, is able to be. The daft bumpkin looked a bit desperate, rolling around like that, not getting a grip, and i tried to get them apart, in a sense that the law would accept as consensual civil action. Managed to wedge the man off her and hug her, still caught for them, safe for her. Talked her down, do what's best for you lovely, no way out left, don't make it worse. And i felt her going softer, playing along a bit. We could have continued to resolve this ugly affair like people.

The Cop proceeded instead to call in for reinforcements, and none less than three of them. They screeched the few meters from the station and jumped out driving drama like. Wrenched me from both sides, me doing the "how far can i force them if i do it slowly" tu get to get near the poor girl, talking to her and to them to calm down. And then they tried to stuff her into the car instead of frog-marching us there together. Which took long and seemed much longer, her holding fast to the door frame and squirming. They closed the door on her fingers. After a while they went off. Talked sensibly to the two freshly arrived rozzers left with me, "this is a medical condition, please do show some humanity here. Look it up in her record, there was at least one other occasion, involving an ambulance. She needs me now, before this turns a nightmare, and you clearly see i collaborate." Got laughed at and puffed around some "you best shut it, or we can make you" like. Took my stats and let me go, thrown out rather. They didn't let me in the part of the station i heard her screaming in, blocked the corridor, held me, threatened a beating. By then adrenaline was drained, no chance anyway. Closed doors. What now, call the police, huh? Or be an hero, dealing rightful carnage, big and green like? Pffft. So i waited, smoking and cursing life. What i heard later made my blood curdle, would i have imagined, i would have tried harder.

First they had put her in the padded cell, where she slammed against the walls and almost broke her foot on the door in claustrophoby. That was why i didn't hear more screams and thought she chilled the fuck out now. They sent in a female, who twisted her arm, abused her, and called her worthless slut and that she may considering perishing rapidly on her next diamorphine excursion. Girl had calmed down by then, helpless and confused and tried to ask what she had done and why they were so cruel. At one point she pulled at/tried to rip out her septum piercing, luckily the ball came loose, as it was wedged in, not screwn on. Then forced her to get blood drawn for drug testing, then cuffed her to the bottom of radiator to wait. Thus forcing her to cower down on dirty concrete in the corridor. By then she was just devastated, freezing, crying and asking for help and crying. Passing cops, who didn't even know what had happened, hurled abuse going past. The boss man, same dude who offered me a truncheon lunch when i went in again, stood around smiling. No one questioned anything of it. If it happens, there must be a reason.

Over an hour later, past two in the morning by now, she came out, pale, shaking, crying uncontrollably. We went off on the long way home, the snow fell heavy now, like trying to cover up the story. She said that she just felt like dying. Eventually, the dark and me and the hard booze we hurriedly necked at first chance started to help. She had seen a world of shit, this not nearly being the worst, and we talked nonsense and were cosy until she fell asleep. The next day i called the forces' office, demanding them to come forward with any kind of statement, the names of these involved. The man at the phone was informed and told me: no one saw a thing but us and them. Counter-cases for aggravated assault on both, should we even try. Violent crime tag that every potential employer, border guard and such will see forever, no luck. Months and thousands in cash. Then put the phone down. I didn't try again. Heard of the same so often, saw it a few times. But something that is part of being citizen broke that night.

They didn't accept me as witness in court either. Still had a fun time, the guy all puffed up and hypocrite, failure of society, no chance in this world, preacher style. Us quoting law paragraps regarding this and being hushed, no comment. Her defender talking of difficult upbringing, and not what she had told him. Cameras from the bus station close to there, ignored, "too far away", in fact 10 meters. At least she managed without the outbreak of a flaming shitstorm, us having excessively talked through what will happen beforehand. A few more rough words went past their ears uncommented though, guess, they guessed what had actually happened. Oh, and the rozzer she had bitten (layers of clothing, winter and all) apparently went to hospital for it the same night, none the less. After all, they did not sue on stuff that they could have. She got community work in the animal shelter. Which is fair play, she loves the furry buggers.

So i wrote this letter to our federal president. Took me weeks to bring the anger and shame and instinctive fear to get sucked in by governance in any way, assume a decent, respective style, make the narrative coherent and adequate. Reading up some law, quotes from the german constitution, one of his speeches as well. My whole brittle tar-stained soul was in there. Hand written on posh paper, pages bound with red thread, don't ask me why. And maybe next week, we heard in the news that the man had died. Johannes Rau, † 27. Januar 2006 in Berlin. We never heard back. Karma, that bitch, keeps me hungry.
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 16:05, 3 replies)
..now where's my fucking xbox?
I have been known to annoy people on this forum and others about doing referral schemes for getting freebies. I'm not going to bore you with all the details but people sign up and do offers; after a select amount you can get a freebie (in my case, an Xbox360, a Wii and a DSi but I digress). 2 years back I was being a right nag about it and I was finding ways of getting more credits. One way was the eBay sale.

Basically you create a sale on eBay explaining that you are not actually selling an Xbox360 but promoting your link for them to do the same as you. I stuck the advert on "Buy it Now" for 1p and listed in the heading "No Xbox with this sale" on it, and stuck it on for a week.

2 days in I had noticed that a few people had indeed started to sign up and test stuff; aha, the system works and I'm getting a few credits on my scheme for a 20p advert on eBay. Brilliant thinks I.....

However. Some numpty tries to buy it for 1p. Great...fucks up the listing and removes it from the limelight. I PM the guy and inform him that there was no article for sale, as is currently listed about 10 times in the post in bold. "Where's my Xbox?" says he. I reply back explaining that I was just advertising the link and that no xbox was on sale. He plays dumb and demands that I either provide him the console or he'll complain to eBay and get me banned. I politely tell him to stop playing dumb.

The same evening I get a warning from eBay, which I accept and leave a message saying that I won't advertise stuff like that again on their site, and they are happy that the issue is over. Not for the numpty though, who emails me through eBay again.

"Now where's my fucking xbox? lol"

That was it, I was pissed.

So I politely borrowed his rather odd username and started trolling Google with it, and because it was quite an odd username I quickly found a forum he had registered on and on his profile found his hometown and occupation.

So I smiled and opened up eBay, happily typing in the reply then clicked "Send".

The message, simply "Why don't we both calm down and bake a cake or something?"....the baker from Banbury never did reply to that.

might be a cheaky pea
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 15:15, 4 replies)
Advice Needed - Problem Neighbours
My neighbours have somehow managed to gain a large council house, totally rent free in central London. As far as I know, all the members are on benefits and all possess broken marriages with one of the grandchildren being a bit of a Nazi. The head of the family thinks she deserves two birthdays and they all ponce about like they own the place. It's well known in the community that they receive free travel costs and this is duly abused by them all and the barking from their dogs keeps me up all night.

What can I do?
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 15:10, 10 replies)
I like the teenage till-jockeys in supermarkets
that chat to each other excitedly, and then, without looking at the customer, drop their voice to a bored monotone for the price and hold their hand out expectantly, "Free pan firty-nine pleeese ... "
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 15:06, 2 replies)
Dear all electrical retailers in the United Kingdom,
This may be a bit much to ask, but could you possibly check the plugs on equipment before you sell them, as I happen to live in England and not Spain. Over the years I have bought a CD player, VCR and an amplifier which have been fitted with those two pronged Spanish moulded monstrosities*.

Ta very much, Saddo

*Shavers are excluded.
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 15:05, 8 replies)
Great Seller A++++
On Saturday I was on my way to the local post office when I noticed it looked a little strange about the post office building. For once there seemed to be a number of people crowded around the place, which is very strange for a sleepy village near Barnsley (Other than the day where the local unwashed come to collect their dole money anyway). It also seemed to be surrounded by a number of policemen and the blue and white police tape indicating a crime scene…ahh

Turned out that the place had been subjected to an armed robbery, details were pretty sparse but word seemed to have spread and the local gossip merchants were all hovering around looking to catch a snippet of info or even appear in the background of one of the photos that was to appear in the local paper (The photographer was there as I arrived).

As I surveyed the situation before making an about turn home I managed to witness the most stupid form of complaint from another local who I will refer to here as Dave. He was stood at the front of the shop yelling at one of the police trying to tie up an errant piece of tape that has broke free.

Dave: Why can’t you let me in I need to post this parcel

Plod: Sorry sir but I can’t help you I suggest you choose to go Athersley post office instead, it looks like this may take a while.

Dave: What, that’s no good for me, I need to post it today and can’t make it all the way to another post office, would you give me a lift there?

Plod: (Looking at Dave and hoping he is joking) Sorry sir but this is a pretty major incident and requires our attention.


Plod: Calm down sir if you send them a message or something they should understand the situ....(Dave interrupts)


Plod: Ok sunshine I have had enough, I suggest you leave now and I will not take this any further, if you wish to continue then I will have to escort you to a car and transport you to Barnsley police station where you and your precious little parcel will be detained for a while in the cells.


At that point I made a mental note to get off my ass and write a letter myself commending the officer’s work as I don’t thibnk I could have been as patient with the scumbag.

Apologies for length but it is my first entry in a while.
(, Tue 7 Sep 2010, 14:28, 3 replies)

This question is now closed.

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